The Chris I Knew
by BoatsAgainstTheCurrent
Summary: He made this sad town beautiful. Gordie recalls the amazing man Chris was in a speech he wrote for his best friends' funeral.


**The Chris I Knew **

_Most people would search the globe for that exquisitely beautiful, romantic place. They would look for towering snow-capped mountains and sandy beaches and shimmering blue waters and flowering colorful fields and the scent of the perfect mix of fresh air and sweetness. They would look for places like Rome, with winding cobblestone roads and triumphant statues and perfect little cafes and street-side stands. They would search for places like Paris, with the ever romantic Eiffel tower and evening lights and couples in love and streets full of paintings. But I don't, because you made Castle Rock the most beautiful place on Earth. _

The podium saw lots of people that day, including me. I sat squeamishly on the edge of my seat as one person after another made their way up the small aisle. Nervously, they wringed their hands or tapped their thighs or fumbled with their necklaces and rings. They'd get up there, wipe their faces to ensure dryness, clear their throat, set down an accompanying paper (if they needed one) and spoke as confidently as they could. Other than a couple local school peers I remembered from years past, I knew no one. They claimed to be Chris' college friends, friends of the family, colleagues, even long lost cousins, but I could sense that many of their tears and stories were false. They were there only because they were obligated to be, because otherwise they'd be made guilty by family members and even by God Himself.

"But you _have _to go. He was your college roommate for crying out loud!" They'd say.

"He was your best friend."

"He was _family._"

But none of that was ever really true. Chris had never had a family besides me, Teddy and Vern because no one else cared. His own bloody, worthless parents didn't even have the decency to show up at their own son's funeral.

I sat, my stomach sick with anger, thinking about the falsity of the small group of attenders and suddenly I was fighting hard to repress a rage within me. I wanted to scream at each and every faker, at all of their ridiculous sobbing, to tell them that Chris deserved better. That he was a great man, that I loved him with every inch of my being, that I felt bad for them because they couldn't even see that in him. They hadn't known him, or even bothered to try to get to know him. They sat there like they had spent a lifetime with him, as if he had made some sort of mark in their hearts, when the only one who could actually confirm that was me.

I had become such a stiff statue in the ridiculously overdressed funeral chair that I completely missed my cue to take my turn on the podium. I hadn't been listening to the other speeches, knowing full well that if I did I would have been risking a vomit-fest. So after moments of bird-chirping silence, a soft jab in the waist brought me back to my senses and I stumbled like a drunken man to my place beside the preacher. I had no paper with me, but I didn't need one to simply recall our story…

"_At a very young age, before any child should see any negatives in the world at all, Chris and I learned that all humans have the ability to judge without thoroughly knowing. This shone especially bright in who Chris was to me versus who he was to the rest of the town. I was three years of age when we became fast friends. We spent every waking hour together, running around during school recess, refusing to be separated during class. I was too young to understand what was happening in his life. I didn't realize that he was facing tough times at home, I didn't know that those scars he sometimes showed up with were the result of horrible injuries. I didn't notice the uncomfortable glances the locals shot at him as we walked passed, or the not-so-subtle whispers that seemed to cloud around us no matter where we went. But soon I learned that what I had seen in Chris from the very beginning, the loving, sweet, gentle, caring, tough boy, was not at all what anyone else saw. They saw the words dirty, filthy, scum, son of a drunk, lower-class, garbage, written around him and I knew it wasn't fair. I spent many nights after that thinking about my very best friend. I thought about how he comforted me when I faced hard times and felt guilty because I knew full well that he had it so much worse than I did. Yet he still comforted me and made me feel loved, and to this day I don't know why. _

_That was the thing about Chris. No matter how much shit he was going through, he would always push it aside to make you happy. He was strong. He'd hold you in his arms when you were stressed and crying and cradle you back and forth until it was almost impossible not to fall asleep. He was warm and welcoming and always carried a smile and a good laugh in his back pocket. It was hardly possible not to instantly feel happy when you were in a bad mood when he came around. His presence, for those who didn't view him as scum, simply brought a brightness to any place you were. And I loved him. I loved him, and still do with all my being, for everything he was in life. He rose above all the shit people spoke of him and look where he ended up. He ended up where everyone thought he could never be, outside of Castle Rock, a lawyer for God's sake. And I'm incredibly proud…_

I allowed myself a moment to clear my throat and wipe a stray tear from my eye before continuing.

_I remember a time where our friendship reached a rocky point. And it wasn't for the reasons many might think. No, we didn't have a fight of any sort. Instead, we fell in love or, to be more accurate, realized our lifetime love for each other. It had always been quite obvious how we felt about each other. He made me happier than any person I had ever met and even the simplest little things, like his smile, sent me on a loopy roller coaster ride. For many months, we were as happy as any young couple can be. We decided that we didn't give a shit what anyone else thought about us, given that in addition to Chris already being considered trash, we were now also gay. It wasn't easy, I admit it. We both soon came to the realization that, for Chris, being openly gay was just adding to the pressure. He came to me one evening, crying, telling me that he wasn't sure we could be together anymore. He told me he didn't like the pressure the situation was putting on me, that he was worried the townspeople would start ranking me down with scum like Chris. Naturally, I responded that it didn't matter to me, and besides, the people had already ranked me besides him. But it was too late. The pressure too much. And we separated. We both attempted to distract ourselves by starting to date other girls, but I could tell instantly that this was not what I wanted. _

_On an evening in the cold of fall, Chris returned to my house for the first time in months. The sharp crack of a rock awoke me from my sleep, and stumbling out of bed in my pajamas, I went to open the window where it had hit. Chris crawled into my room and sat himself down on the floor. I sat next to him, not quite sure what to say, but I was deep in thought. At the time, Chris had been dating a beautiful girl named Sadie Wilkins and whenever I saw the two together, my heart beat with immense jealously. Slowly, our conversation drifted towards her. I wanted to know if he really did love her, if he really had gotten over me. I thought myself insane when I asked him too, but I did anyway._

"_You love her don't you?" I whispered so softly, my voice cracked. _

"_What?" Chris asked me immediately, and it was hard to tell if he was asking because he hadn't heard. _

"_Do you love her? Sadie?" _

_There was an intensely uncomfortable moment of silence in which I regretted my question and my face turned bright red. _

"_You're kidding me right now, Gord-o, aren't you."_

_I wasn't quite sure what he meant by it, and my heart beat even harder and faster. I didn't speak._

"_Gordie, listen to me," Chris said, grabbing my hand, "I could never love Sadie."_

"_Why not?" I wondered, my face heating up with every second._

"_Because… She's not you."_

_No one's ever been told that story. But it's important for me that it is known. Chris may have lived underneath the roof of two completely lunatic and horribly off parents, but that doesn't mean he was going to turn out that way. He had a heart made of pure gold and he made this sad town beautiful._

I looked up at the sky briefly.

_I love you Chambers." _

It's impossible to describe the way some of those people looked at me as I stepped off of the podium. Even the preacher had to take a moment to clear his throat and continue the funeral. I smirked a little as I found my way back to my seat, regarding all those stunned humans, unsure of what to do next. It didn't really matter to me what they thought anymore. It didn't matter that they were a bunch of unknowns, people who didn't truly know the Christopher Chambers that I had the privilege to. That's their loss.


End file.
